


all i need (to feel alive)

by quackingfish



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Airports, Autistic Character, Disabled Character, Muslim Character, Other, Trans Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 02:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3363638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quackingfish/pseuds/quackingfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Like, it’s Sips, of course she’s gonna be late.”<br/>“Fucking Sips,” Ross echoed their words, grinning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all i need (to feel alive)

**Author's Note:**

> title from Johnny Sniper- Enter Shikari  
> Handy Dandy Pronoun Guide:  
> Smiff: they/them  
> Ross: he/him  
> Trott: ve/vir  
> Sips: she/her

Smiff squeezed Trott’s hand, glancing sideways at Ross, who hadn’t stopped running his fingers across the strap of his bag since they’d gotten to the right terminal.

“She’ll be here soon,” Trott nodded, shifting vir weight off vir prosthetic. Ve was doing that thing again, where ve tried to reassure the rest of them even though ve wasn’t sure virself, and Smiff squeezed vir again.

“Like, it’s Sips, of course she’s gonna be late.”

“Fucking Sips,” Ross echoed their words, grinning.

“She did get her flight delayed, though, bloody airlines.” Trott shook vir head, and Smiff couldn’t help laughing along.

“You say that like it wasn’t her fault,” Smiff snarked back, instinctual after so many hours and weeks spent together, bouncing off each other for fun and for profit.

They were glad Lewis had decided they should be the ones to pick her up from the airport without any prompting. Their closeness with Sips wasn’t exactly overt, but as a group they couldn’t help hanging off of her whenever they got a chance. Smiff passed it off to the other Yogs as a trans thing, but in reality, they just genuinely enjoyed her company.

Ross shifted the position of their bag on his shoulder, adding, “Gave us more time to get here, though- never want to risk your fast driving again,”

“Oh, piss off, mate,” Smiff grinned, and Ross bumped his shoulder against theirs, one of his favourite ways of showing affection. He wasn’t a fan of holding hands or too much physical contact, otherwise Smiff would be clinging to him almost as tightly as they were to Trott. They loosened their grip on vir fingers as an afterthought.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence again, Ross staring up at the huge screens while Trott scanned the crowd for Sips. Smiff was useless around them- they were both far too distracting. It was fucking unfair, that’s what it was.

Still, both Ross and Trott really good at this whole waiting in an airport thing, and Smiff knew it was their fault. Those first few months the trio known each other, back during uni- those had been brutal. None of them had had what they were doing, just that they wanted to be alone in a room together for two weeks straight, and Smiff remembered all too vividly the raw fear they’d felt when they’d finally been forced to come out about their transness to the others, overwhelmed into a panic attack.

God, they’d fucked up with that. So bad. Like, it’d fucking worked out fine, better than fine, but it was awful. That whole time was awful, but Smiff couldn’t hate it too much.

They managed to totally miss Sips coming up to them, blinking in shock as she kneeled and took both of Trott’s hands, kissing them and making vir giggle.

“Ah, thank fuck you’re here, couldn’t stand the plane food. Terrible.” Sips stood up smoothly and dumped her bag on Smiff unceremoniously.

“Hi, Si-”

“What is this- I’m not your- your bag valet!” Smiff laughed, cutting Trott off gleefully. Man, they loved doing that.

“Bag valet?” Ross grinned, stimming happily as they offered Sips a hand, speeding up when she shook it and didn’t push for more.

“Well, what else is it called?”

“Come on, Smiffy, you’re my pack mule, c’mere, mule-y,” Sips grinned, soft and lazy, and Smiff pulled her into a hug, their throat tightening. “Aww, Smiffy,”

“Fuck you, Sips.” Smiff mumbled into her shoulder, weirded out at being taller than her before realising she wasn’t wearing heels. “You’re like, short.”

Smiff stepped away, their fingers still tangled in Sips’ green hoodie. They fucking loved her fashion sense, or rather, her intermittent lack of a fashion sense, and it was even fucking cooler that she pulled it all off. Sips was pretty great.

“Security. And practicality.” Sips nodded, nodding again when Trott flicked vir head towards the door. “Yeah, we should go. Can’t wait to see this shitty car Smiff’s bought.”

“Oh, bugger off, it’s the best around, and you all know it.”

“You just can’t handle the truth, Smiff,” Ross deadpanned, his face lighting up when Smiff turned to look at him. “Besides, I’m tired of carrying The Bag.”

It was always The Bag, capital letters included. They were probably too domestic. Smiff didn’t care. They all needed so much stuff, between the extra kit for Trott's prosthetic, Ross’ stim toys, Smiff’s anxiety meds, and their entire stash of the only pain meds that didn’t interfere with anything else each of them were all on, the bag was always heavy, not to mention the extra camera and batteries Smiff had stowed in there the previous morning.

“At least you ain’t got Sips’ shit- what’ve you brought- bowling balls?”

“Well…”

“Oh, fuck off, mate-”

It had taken them a while to wander through the actually endless chaos of the car park, but they’d made it, and Smiff was more than glad to be on the road. Not even the asshole who cut them off could ruin their mood; it was just that awesome to have Sips with them. Also to finally be out of the damn airport.

Ross seemed to be feeling the same way, judging how he was quietly starting to beatbox behind them, the rhythm marking at as a stimmy thing. At this point, it was as familiar to Smiff as Ross was, the echoes of some of his favourite songs running through it and meshing together in a wonderful way.

Smiff glanced in the mirror, trying to get his attention quickly, but was distracted by Sips, who was leaning over to the middle of the car and chatting quietly with Trott about something, probably something nerdy, and painting her nails. In a moving car. (In reality, the car was barely moving- traffic was Smiff’s worst enemy, and they hated it.)

“Sips, what the fuck- please don’t paint my car. Why are you even- what?” Smiff swivelled round to give her an incredulous look before turning their eyes back to the road.

“Nail polish is a vital human right.” Sips’s voice was muffled, but closer than it should have been, if she hadn’t been sprawled out everywhere. Classic Sips.

In her defence, though, Smiff couldn’t remember ever seeing her without some form of nail polish- usually chipped to hell, as if she put it on that way, which honestly wouldn’t surprise them.

“Not in England, but I’ll let it pass,” Smiff grinned, wider when they realised Ross was slowly increasing in volume.

“Must be all my charm,” Sips shot back, and then, thank fuck, the traffic started to thin.

Smiff started to sing along to Ross’ beat quietly, wordless but hesitant, questioning. Ross shifted the beat as an answer, and then Trott was joining in too, filling in a chorus and glancing at Smiff, clearly encouraging them to push their voice further, like the music nerd ve was.

Really though, they were all music nerds, and Smiff wasn’t exactly one to talk when they’d just started an impromptu acapella jam session. They could see the awe in Sips’ face in the wing mirror, though, her laughter working as a quiet undertone when Trott started a shift that they all fell into place with instantly.

There had been a time when Smiff didn’t sing outside the privacy of their bedroom, doors locked and nobody home. Surronded by Trott, Ross, and Sips, though, they pushed their voice higher, going for notes that they had no hope of hitting and laughing anyway, grinning when Trott punched their arm. This shit was awesome.

Smiff couldn’t stop grinning. They’d all bundled into the bathroom as soon as they’d got back to the flat, Ross running a bath for Sips and Trott letting her use one of vir bath bombs, and somehow Smiff had ended up perched on the edge of the bath, clutching their sides as Trott waved vir foot at Ross.

“Trott, no- come on mate,” Ross shrank back, laughing and knocking over a few to the assortment of bottles on the counter he was sitting on.

“Oh yeah? That’ll teach you to fuck with me when I’m taking my leg off, prick,” Trott grinned, relenting and resting vir prosthetic against the cabinet, offering Sips a fistbump.

“You’re ridiculous,” Sips grinned, sinking deeper into the water. It was already really pink. Like really pink.

“Don't you know it,” Trott shot back, turning back to remove vir sleeve and set it on the counter, ready to be cleaned. Ve didn’t often wear vir leg for as long as ve had today, but when Trott saw them looking, ve smiled and added, “Just a little sore, not bad at all,”

That’d come in really useful back in the days where they’d all been crowded around the same desk, playing footsie under the table while they worked. Smiff definitely had taken advantage of the extra legroom.

Sips drew all their attention back to herself with a loud splash, flicking water at Smiff with a wide, lazy smirk.

“Aw, Sips, fuck you,” Smiff threw their hands up, before shrugging and dipping their now wet arm back in the water. “Okay, that’s warm.”

“Well, yeah,” Ross kicked at Smiff’s side, and Smiff rolled their eyes, not even having to look to flip him off.

“You guys are great,” Sips grinned, shaking her head.

“Don’t you know it,” Trott repeated, earning a set of fingerguns from Ross, complete with laser noises. God, they were all enormous nerds. Except Smiff. They definitely never got really into any of their D&D games, or anything. Nope.

“Oh my god,” Smiff chuckled, looking around the cramped bathroom. There really wasn’t enough room for four people. Even when they were all tucked in weird spots they were constantly bumping against each other.

“Anyway, what d’ya wanna do today, Sips? Your call, I think,” Trott barely even had to reach forward to ruffle Sips’ hair, and there was a joint ‘aww’ from Smiff and Ross when she tilted her head into vir hand.

“Could we just like, slob about together? I missed you guys,” She added in an undertone, and Smiff hated, fucking hated how vulnerable she sounded.

“Of course,” Smiff placed their hand on Sips’ knee where it was sticking out of the water. “We missed you too,”

After her bath, the three of them bundled Sips off towards their bed, pausing only to dry her off slightly before Ross was pulling out that really nice fruity lotion they’d picked up from the store ages ago but never used, while Trott collapsed into bed with Sips, pressing a kiss to her cheek and cuddling up to her.

Smiff held their hands out when Ross offered the lotion at them, bumping against him softly before diving onto the bed, laughing even before they swiped some across Sips’ forehead and declared them “Simba,”

“Aw, fuck you, Smiffy,” Sips grinned, wiping her face and pouting at Ross. “You knew they’d do that, didn’t you?”

Ross nodded. “Yep.” He set the bottle on the table besides Trott’s ever-growing stack of books before climbing onto the bed, squeezing into a spot that no human being should’ve been able to fit into.

“You love it,” Smiff laughed, waving their hand. “Turn over, yeah?”

“Ohh, is this what I think it is?” Sips waggled her eyebrows but rolled onto her front anyway, startling into a laugh when Trott patted her butt.

“Probably not,” Trott added, taking some of the lotion from Smiff’s hands, starting to work it into her shoulders, shrugging off vir shirt after a second.

“Is this one of those Super Special Hat Films Pile-On Massages I’ve been hearing about?” Sips mumbled into the bed when both Smiff and Ross joined in.

“You bet it is,” Ross said, quietly, clearly focused on working his hands across the small of Sips’ back.

They lapsed into quiet after that, using the sign language Ross had taught them to have their little squabbles about who got to touch which part of Sips. Whatever Trott said, Smiff totally deserved to make her butt smell all fruity. It was like, a human right.

And, as expected, they all ended up in an enormous cuddle pile, Smiff clutching at Sips while Trott and Ross traded stories of things she’d missed back at the office.

“You should see if you can visit me sometime,” Sips hummed quietly, long after Ross had finished retelling the highlights of their Pokemon shenanigans.

Trott hummed back, chewing on vir lip, before sighing. “I’d love to, but I really doubt I’d get through. Like, you have enough trouble getting here, but I don’t know if security would like, like me. Is Canada as bad with Muslims as the US?”

“Ah, shit, Sorry Trott.” Sips sighed, pressing her face into vir. “Yeah, it’d be so hard even getting just you over, but with Ross and Kermit too…” She trailed off, and Smiff couldn’t even comment on the bullshit nickname.

Fuck, this sucked.

“Maybe we could just pool some money together and fly you here more often?” Smiff sighed and ran their fingers across Sips’ side.

“Start a ‘Save the Super Queer Squad’ donation fund?” Ross grinned, and the moment melted away into laughter.

“We could probably sell Trott’s literal shit for cash- people do that, right?”

“Sips, what the fuck-”

“It’s the internet mate, besides, how do you know we haven’t already done that?”

“Smiff!”

“Fuck off, Scrott,”

“Would that make Trott our golden goose? Instead of laying eggs ve just shits out cash?”

“Not you too- fuck you all, oh my god,”

“Aww, come on, we’re just saying you’ve got a golden ass,”

“Now that I’m fine with. Please form an orderly queue to kiss up to my ass, it’s your new god,”

“All hail Trott’s ass!”


End file.
